


Legends to Come

by scepterofstardust



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen, Haikyuu!! Magic Fest, Magic AU, whoops this isn't what I expected
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 18:48:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8172085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scepterofstardust/pseuds/scepterofstardust
Summary: They are each different; they all have suffered and survived. When the sky screams and the days turn black, they will answer the call and turn the malevolent away. A little story about how our favorite boys developed magic and learn to live with it in the modern day :)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys. I know I haven't been posting a lot till recently, but here I am again. I loved the idea of the Magic Fest so much and these ideas just popped out of my brain, I hope you enjoy :)

_Once upon a time there were two little boys. Twelve years old._

 

"Nothing good ever happens around here."

 

Iwaizumi snorted, hoisting his backpack up. 

 

"You say that every week." Oikawa pouted.  

 

"It's true, isn't it?"

 

"Yeah, I guess. But school starts in a month. You won't be bored then." Oikawa crinkled his nose.

 

"That doesn't make it better, Iwa-chan."

 

"There's just no pleasing you, is there?"

 

"Mean!" Oikawa bounded after Iwaizumi, out the back door. The locusts were roaring in the trees. Without turning, Iwaizumi tossed the volleyball between hands and huffed in exasperation.

 

"Stop pouting, it-"

 

"Pisses you off, I know." Oikawa sighed. "What have I done to deserve such horrible treatment at the hands of-"

 

"Shut up."

 

"But-" Oikawa had just entered the gate into Iwaizumi's backyard when the volleyball narrowly avoided his head. "Hey!" Sensing the other boy's glare, he put his bag down in the grass. "You're the one who invited me to practice setting."

 

"Yeah. Only because there's a cliff nearby."

 

"Iwa-chan!" Iwaizumi smirked and tossed the ball up experimentally.

 

"You ready?" Oikawa got into position with a smug smile. 

 

"Yeah." Oikawa got the first few tosses fine but on the last he stumbled and the ball smacked him in the chest before rolling downhill into the bushes. Oikawa made a noise of frustration. Iwaizumi frowned.

 

"That was terrible." Offended, Oikawa went to retrieve the ball. He knelt to grab it and a few seconds passed.

 

Pain sliced up his abdomen and cut through his bones, spreading until he couldn't move.

 

Oikawa tried to cry out but there wasn't enough strength, enough breath. All he managed was a strangled gasp. Footsteps approached him from behind. "What are you doing, admiring your reflection?" When Oikawa didn't give him a sarcastic reply, his voice changed from teasing to concerned. "Hey, what is it?" Iwaizumi crouched down to pick up the ball and froze when he saw Oikawa's terrified expression. "Oikawa? What's-"

 

"I'm gonna be sick." Oikawa ground out, squeezing his eyes shut. Why couldn't he move?

 

"O-Oh," Iwaizumi stuttered uncertainly. "Let's...let's go inside then, I'll call your mom. She's only a couple minutes away, right?" Oikawa tried to nod and he moved to stand up. The world tilted and he collapsed on his hands and knees, chest heaving. "Oikawa?"

 

"H-Help me up," Oikawa said quietly. "I can't." Iwaizumi nervously dropped the ball and reached for Oikawa's arms. His grip was strong, and Oikawa's pain flared, a shiver rushing across his skin. Iwaizumi pulled him up and Oikawa yelped as his muscles disobeyed and he fell into the other boy. "Iwa-chan!" He tried not to let fear creep into his voice, but Iwa-chan heard it anyways, he could tell. Iwaizumi's voice was steady above his head.

 

"Hang on, I'll help you." The steps to the deck and into the kitchen made Oikawa's head spin, but they made it. Iwaizumi guided him to a chair beside the counter and went to get the phone. Oikawa brought his knees into his chest and dropped his head down. The pain only worsened, and he winced, gritting his teeth. When the other boy returned with a notebook and the phone, he studied Oikawa, worry in his eyes. "Are you sure it's just your stomach? You look really pale." Oikawa shook his head miserably, fighting away the tears. 

 

"I don't know, Iwa-chan. I can't breathe, I couldn't stand up, I-"

 

"You're not going to die, Trashkawa." Normally the insult would have gotten a rise out of him, but Oikawa just stared at him with clouded eyes.

 

"How can you be sure?" Iwaizumi fidgeted, barely.

 

"Who else can I throw stuff at?"

 

"Aw," Oikawa rasped, trying to summon his teasing voice. "How romantic."

 

"Shut up." Iwaizumi's cheeks were tinted, but Oikawa hardly noticed. He doubled over in the chair, breath grating in and out of his throat. "Hey, shouldn't you go to the bathroom?"

 

"I...I don't think I can move right now," Oikawa replied weakly.

 

"Okay..." At a loss, Iwaizumi began flipping in the notebook, searching for a phone number. After he found it, he fished out a glass and filled it with water. Oikawa took it with a shaking hand. "Here, it's supposed to help." Oikawa gulped down half the glass. His head was pounding. The sound of Iwaizumi dialing numbers sounded incredibly far away. Oikawa grimaced as his head screamed in response to the noise. _He really was dying, wasn't he..._  


"Oikawa!" Iwaizumi's loud exclamation woke him up, and his head snapped up. 

 

"What..."

 

"Look!" Oikawa blinked a few times before he saw it. 

 

The kitchen was shaking. The counters were vibrating, the vase on top of the oven was rattling, the dishes in the cabinets were clinking together restlessly. 

 

"Is...it an earthquake?"

 

"I don't know, I don't see it happening outside, but-" _Crack._  Oikawa's glass shattered against the tile. Iwaizumi jumped at the sound and turned. Oikawa was holding his head in his hands, and Iwaizumi could just make out the glimmer of tears on his cheeks.

 

"S-sorry..." Oikawa's voice was nearly inaudible. 

 

"It's okay," Iwaizumi said hurriedly, moving to stand in front of him. "Is it getting worse?"

 

"I-Iwa-chan...it really hurts..." 

 

"Do you need to go to the hospital?"

 

"M-Maybe...I should probably go to the bathroom..." Oikawa unfolded his body as gingerly as he could and the moment he stood up, his muscles seized. He hit the tile on his hands and knees. Oikawa made a frustrated noise and tried again. He couldn't seem to lift his limbs from the floor. He heard Iwaizumi's frantic voice asking him if he needed help, but he couldn't respond. There was an endless roaring in his head and his muscles were paralyzed. He cringed when he accidentally brought his hand down on a shard of glass. Distantly he saw red dripping onto the tile, but everything was blurry. A hand grabbed his wrist as if to examine his wound. The touch sent fire crawling over him, and Oikawa flinched. His vision went white and his hearing buzzed. The pain took over. He shut his eyes and prayed for it to stop.

 

Oikawa screamed as invisible hands snatched him off the floor and threw him violently upwards into the ceiling. His head slammed into the drywall with a loud crack and he couldn't catch his breath again before he fell, knees and elbows hitting the ground hard enough to bruise. Everything in the background was disappearing, and he finally understood even as he was clutching his head and hot tears were working their way out. Or, he didn't understand, but rather he felt. He felt the Earth twisting under him, felt the roots and the rocks and the air trying to choke him, trying to demand something from him, trying to hold him down...

 

He felt his body, perfectly still in the midst of the house shaking, felt how it was clinging to the ground like he was a magnet. He felt it all closing in on him, the walls, the world beneath him, the ceiling and his own center of gravity wobbling. Everything was shaking and moving and he couldn't make it stop, he couldn't see, he couldn't move-

 

"Oikawa!" He didn't even hear his friend calling his name, didn't see Iwaizumi kneeling next to him and desperately looking to see if he was hurt, until Iwaizumi's hand closed around his arm again and pulled, wanting his attention. Oikawa was sobbing and everything was so loud and nothing stood still and-

 

Before he even knew what he'd done he'd sent Iwaizumi flying back into the wall. A groan of pain, and utter silence leaked in as the tension in Oikawa's body cleared. The ringing quieted, and he could move again, but...

 

Iwaizumi was slouched against the wall, face white in shock. He slowly looked at Oikawa, eyes unfocused, as the trembling room stilled. 

 

Oikawa finally snapped back into himself, expression full of horror, and scrambled onto his knees, clumsily crawling towards Iwaizumi. 

 

"I-Iwa-chan...are...are you okay?" Oikawa's voice shook as he evaluated his friend. Iwaizumi's eyes were wide and incredulous. 

 

"I-"

 

"I hurt you, didn't I? Iwa-chan, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry I couldn't stop-"

 

"No, you idiot, I'm fine," Iwaizumi said quickly, despite the fact that his spine felt like it was going to crack down the middle. He sat forward, stinging pain crawling down his back. 

 

"Really?" Oikawa's face was soaked with tears, and his eyes were full of self-loathing.

 

"Yeah." Relieved, Oikawa sat down in front of him, gulping in air.

 

"Okay. Okay."

 

"Try and calm down."

 

"I...I am calm."

 

"Liar." Oikawa almost stuck out his bottom lip but didn't quite have the spirit to do so.

 

"Iwa-chan..."

 

"What."

 

"That was scary, wasn't it?"

 

"What was scary?" Oikawa blinked at him owlishly.

 

"Huh?"

 

"Oikawa. You know other people can't find out about this, right?"

 

"I...I guess you're right, but-" Iwaizumi broke a tiny smile.

 

"I'll help you figure it out, I promise. But we can't let other people find out. Kids beat each other up for having a dollar, I don't want to imagine what might happen..." Oikawa's eyes widened.

 

"You're...you're smart Iwa-chan."

 

"Shut up." Iwaizumi stood up carefully and offered Oikawa a hand. The other boy still looked frightened, though, and held back.

 

"Iwa-chan...what do you think I am?" Iwaizumi almost flinched but kept his reaction in check.

 

"I...don't know. I wish I did, Oikawa..."

 

"What am I supposed to do?" Oikawa asked, voice close to a whimper. "What's...what's wrong with me that I can't stop, Iwa-chan? What if...what if I hurt people, what if-"

 

"Hey. Knock it off." Iwaizumi said perhaps a little too loudly, earning him another stupefied blink. "We don't need to figure that out right now."

 

"But..." Oikawa appeared completely confused. "But, aren't you afraid of-"

 

"No." Iwaizumi shot back bravely. "I'm not." A long stretch of silence followed. Oikawa's eyes were full of tears again. It made something in Iwaizumi's chest move. 

 

"We've got to get this cleaned up before your mom gets here. I'll help you, okay? We'll figure this out somehow. I promise." Oikawa smiled, hesitant and very small, but took Iwaizumi's hand.

 

"Okay. It's you and me, Iwa-chan."

 

_And it was._

The years passed agonizingly slow for the two boys. They went to junior high and continued to play volleyball. (As if there wasn't more urgent things to worry about.) The sport was important to both of them, and Oikawa was said to be one of the best in the prefecture. But they both knew it couldn't stay this way forever. Iwaizumi could see the anxiety and panic building under Oikawa's skin with every day that passed. It didn't help that he had a rival. (Kageyama Tobio. Oikawa knew he had magic, too. Maybe it hadn't manifested, but he felt it. Sometimes he had dreams where he was pinned to the floor and Tobio-chan was glaring down at him wearing a crown of flames.) Tobio wasn't aware he was making things worse; if ever they were around each other, Iwaizumi stayed close. He found out why one day when Oikawa was practicing, brown eyes dead ahead and frozen over with anger. He was on the verge of snapping, Iwaizumi could tell. He could always tell, after all this time. It still surprised him when Tobio asked Oikawa a question and he watched the rage crawl out over Oikawa's body. Oikawa whirled and the ground shook, and Iwaizumi barely got there in time. Oikawa's face registered his presence and the fist that had been aimed at Tobio's chest stopped an inch away from Iwaizumi. Startled, Tobio left quickly, his footsteps fading. After he was gone, Oikawa gave in and fell on his knees. His quiet sobs echoed in the empty gymnasium. Iwaizumi patiently waited for them to subside. Eventually Oikawa had gotten it all out, and he was only sniffling.

 

"Iwa-chan, he's going to beat me. I know it."

 

"Maybe one day." Oikawa looked up at him in surprise. "But it doesn't matter. The team with the best six wins. It's not just you fighting, you know that right? So what if he surpasses you. It doesn't mean he wins." Oikawa breathed in and smiled slowly.

 

"You're...so smart Iwa-chan."

 

"Shut up."

 

"I mean it. You always know what to say."

 

"Yeah, well..."

 

"But I won't stand here and let him beat me."

 

"I'm not telling you to. I'm here to fight with you, and so are the others. One day, you'll get to fight him for real. Don't worry." Oikawa sighed and stood up.

 

"You're right." 

 

"Of course I'm right, you idiot. Why do you think I've stayed with you all this time? I'm here to make sure you don't lose. Not where it matters." Oikawa looked over at him, eyes full of awe.

 

"Is that why you've stayed and put up with me?"

 

"Yeah. It's a miracle, isn't it?" 

 

"Mean, Iwa-chan! Unnecessary!" Oikawa squawked.

 

"Oikawa."

 

"What?"

 

"I need to ask you something...important." Oikawa saw the look on Iwaizumi's face and his offended expression died a little.

 

"What is it?"

 

"I've...heard rumors." Iwaizumi's face heated. 

 

"About what?"

 

"That...people like you, with magic...they can share it with people, or...pass it on, and I..." Oikawa's face fell entirely. "Can you...I mean, do you think you can really do that?" It took several seconds for Oikawa to reply.

 

"I think so. I can feel it when people are around. It's like...having too much stuff in your hands and feeling it tip like it's going to fall." Iwaizumi looked incredibly nervous, something that was uncommon for him. He turned to fully face Oikawa and set his jaw.

 

"If you had a little less magic, even...even a little, would it make it easier? For you?" Oikawa flinched.

 

"Iwa-chan, I-"

 

"Answer the question." Iwaizumi's eyes were unwavering.

 

"...Yes." Oikawa answered very quietly. "It...would be easier to control, I think...but-"

 

"Give me some of it," Iwaizumi interrupted, his voice strong.

 

"What?!" Oikawa hissed. "No. No, I am not going to-"

 

"Oikawa. Do it, please."

 

"No."

 

"Please just listen."

 

"No-"

 

"Oikawa-"

 

"Iwa-chan, I won't do it!" Oikawa shouted. "I could never-"

 

"Listen to me!" Iwaizumi roared back. Oikawa hesitated a moment, something he never did to anyone else, and Iwaizumi continued, his gaze fixed on the other boy. "I...I've been here since the beginning. Even before...you got your magic. I'm tired of watching you carry it on your own. I'm tired of seeing you on the verge of breaking and not being able to do anything. I'm sick of it, Oikawa. Do you understand that?" Oikawa's face went slack.

 

"Iwa-chan..."

 

"I won't do it anymore."

 

"Iwa-chan. I know. I...I understand how you feel, but...I wouldn't wish this on my enemies. I won't...do that to you. I won't give you that. It's not a simple thing, I hardly know what I'm doing even now..."

 

"Idiot. You think I don't see that?" Oikawa frowned.

 

"No, but-"

 

"I want this, Oikawa. I want to help you."

 

"I don't care," Oikawa snapped, his voice cold. "I won't do that to you. No matter how much you ask. I won't put you through..." Oikawa shut his eyes and took a deep breath. "Never mind." Iwaizumi recoiled in astonishment.

 

"Never mind?!"

 

"This conversation is over, Iwa-chan. No." Oikawa picked up his gym bag and started towards the door. "Turn the lights off when you leave." Iwaizumi watched as Oikawa walked out the door and his footsteps faded into the empty school. He scowled as he picked up his own bag. 

 

He wouldn't stop asking.

 

It took a long and tense seven months before Oikawa considered his request again.

 

It took Iwaizumi's phone ringing at one a.m. and using the spare key to let himself into Oikawa's empty house. It took him frantically trying to calm down a sobbing Oikawa in the middle of his fourth panic attack that month, hysterical because he was being held down to the floor and he couldn't move. It took the sun rising at six a.m. and Oikawa looking at him with tear-filled eyes from across the room and whispering _I can't do this anymore._  It took Iwaizumi lying beside him and saying _then don't._  


And Oikawa, looking the most afraid he'd ever looked, had laid a hand on Iwa-chan's chest and breathed a portion of his power into his best friend's body.

 

And so the king and queen of Seijoh were born. Many years later, in high school, they would have others. They would have a little more than six, but that was alright. 

 

They all held the same magic. They all moved the earth and the force that kept them rooted to it.

 

_And they would be the strongest._

 


	2. Out of Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. I had to.

Kuroo could scarcely remember a time when he hadn't been at Kenma's side.

 

They met when they were very young. Kenma was always apart from their classmates, from everyone except him. Kuroo had first approached him on a whim; on some sort of base feeling he should. Later he would know it was because of destiny; because the same magic lay inside both of them, curled up like a sleeping feline. It didn't come out until a few months after they bonded; Kenma had gotten away from him in a crowd, and before either of them knew what had happened, Kenma had fallen into the shade of a building a mile away and right into Kuroo's shadow... Kuroo remembered that day perfectly, as he was sure Kenma did as well, remembered Kenma shaking and his gold eyes filling with black veins as Kuroo tried to get him to stand. It wasn't until Kenma was leaning into him on wobbly legs that Kuroo realized the sun was fleeing from them-that it was bright elsewhere, but the light wasn't landing on their skin. Kenma saw it, too, and his cat's eyes were staring up at him in fear. 

 

That night, Kenma slept at Kuroo's place with the lights on.

 

Kuroo watched, day by day, as Kenma became less afraid. Ceased being scared to travel through shadows and disappear without a trace. Neither of them understood why the gift had come-why this thing, this _magic,_  had grown in Kenma. But Kuroo stayed with him, helped him practice. On the nights when the dark was more stable than his best friend was and Kenma screamed before he could silence it, Kuroo turned the lights on and convinced him that the world was real. He didn't tell Kenma that the whispers and the blackness he summoned called to him too. Tugged at him like a master did a marionette. Years of their childhood passed, though, before it mattered. Kenma was always quiet when it came to other people. Only Kuroo knew what he was capable of, that he had a strong will under that placid gaze. Even though he had the urge to protect Kenma somehow, protect him from what might come in the future, he knew that the world wouldn't break his best friend. Couldn't. Even though he could tell Kenma thought of himself as weaker, as smaller because Kuroo spoke loud and grew tall and talked to everyone he saw...

 

He wasn't sure he believed that.

 

 

Kenma could scarcely remember a time when he hadn't been in Kuroo's shadow.

 

From the time they were children playing with swords to the time he unleashed his magic- it felt like Kuroo was always in front of him, casting shade over Kenma's smaller frame. It was a comforting place to be-it was a solace, and a haven he spent his days in. Kuroo didn't speak for him, he was too good a friend for that...but he spoke ahead of him. Sent people away or communicated to them when Kenma didn't feel like he could. It wasn't that he was afraid of people, but...he always felt a bit separate from them. Didn't know how to speak to them and make them understand him without his tongue falling heavy and fear overcoming his voice. His anxiety made life difficult for him, survivable, but difficult...Kuroo had always helped to curb his discomfort. For that, he could never show his gratitude enough. Perhaps one day, he'd find a way. 

 

After all the years of walking in it, of being able to smile in it and speak, it was no surprise that Kenma escaped there without intending to.

 

Kenma remembered the day his magic came vividly...it was a smear of horror and confusion on an otherwise peaceful year. He and Kuroo were at a festival, and somehow they were separated. Kenma remembered well the terrifying absence of his best friend and the mass of people he didn't know around him. His breath had come faster, his vision getting dotted as he drove himself further into panic and realized he didn't know where he was. He stumbled out of the main crowd and fell against a building, trying to get himself to think clearly. But when his hands hit the concrete, in the cool shade away from the sun, his body didn't hit the ground. Darkness grabbed at him, its hands sliding down his body and moving him through empty space. He couldn't see; he didn't know what was happening. And then, the hands released him, and his eyes registered the concrete rushing up to meet him. Even though his palms bled and his knees ached, all he cared about was the sight when he whirled around; Kuroo's tall frame and its shadow shielding him. His best friend's eyes flickered with shock and within seconds he was by Kenma's side; Kenma knew he looked scared, knew distantly that he was shaking and his eyes weren't focused, but none of that mattered- he was with Kuroo again. (He was safe.)

 

Kuroo's magic didn't surface until a few years later. They were hanging out at a cafe together one lazy afternoon, Kuroo was going on and on about some movie he wanted to see and Kenma was quietly listening, drinking his soda. Kuroo left to get them ice cream, (somehow he knew Kenma had started to crave it even though he hadn't asked for any), and Kenma was occupied with a game on his phone when a foreign shadow crawled over his table. Wearily, he looked up and saw a man he didn't recognize, probably in his late twenties, scowling at him. (Later they would find out he was a hunter, part of an organization looking to kill magicians in the name of humans. They would be a nuisance.) Kenma felt his skin heat and the dark in his chest slashed at him in warning.

 

"Who are you?" It was an effort to keep from stuttering as his magic sloshed around, sensing his discomfort. 

 

"No one," the man said as he leaned forward, close enough to look directly into Kenma's face. "What's more important is who you are." Kenma's eyes scanned the tables around them; this corner of the restaurant was deserted.

 

"What are you talking about?" His hand tightened around his phone, thumb absently moving to open his contacts. _Where was Kuroo?_ He was not prepared for what came next.

 

" _Your magic,_ you idiot child," the man hissed, and before Kenma could stand to move away, he reached across the table, took a fistful of Kenma's hair, and slammed his head into the table. Kenma barely registered the impact before his head rang and a sharp pain flowered on the side of his skull. He yelped, and the man yanked him out of his seat and started pulling him away. Kenma stumbled for a moment, off balance and stunned, and dimly realized he'd dropped his phone. Panic seized him and his magic slammed up into his throat, pushing against his skin and demanding to be let out. But when he was scared like this, he couldn't control what happened...and he knew what he was capable of. Kenma was ready to use his magic in many ways but he was not ready to kill a man. He had to get his senses back. Weakly he tried to push the man off, but he was too dazed to overpower anyone-

 

A fist caught the unknown man across the cheek, and before Kenma had time to get his bearings Kuroo was on top of his attacker, eyes full of rage and strong hand going straight for the throat. The man was white with surprise and Kuroo's face was murderous as he leaned up close and glared at the stranger.

 

"What," Kuroo said with lethal quiet, "sort of coward are you?" The man choked, looking at Kuroo's fingers pressing hard into his neck. "You attack someone smaller than you while they're alone. Someone needs a boost in self confidence." Kuroo's expression was almost a leer, lit from behind by an unbridled anger even his best friend had never seen. Kenma, who had been using the table as support and watching anxiously, was the first to see the black creeping around Kuroo's eyes and up his wrist, towards his assailant's face. "Maybe I should teach you a lesson." The lights above them flickered and dimmed. 

 

"Kuroo," Kenma warned in a strained voice. He recognized the feeling of the darkness in the air, the tang of the magic, but it wasn't his. _Kuroo._  


Snapped out of his violence by Kenma's voice, Kuroo saw it too, and he abruptly let the man go, watching in astonishment as the magic withdrew. The stranger scrambled backwards, still trying to catch his breath. Kuroo's eyes fell on him again, though, and he flinched under his gaze.

 

"If you ever," Kuroo said, gold eyes shining bright against the shadows, "put a hand on him again, I'll remove your head for real. Got it?" With a timid nod, the stranger stood and ran, through the restaurant and out the door. Kuroo instantly whirled on Kenma, hands guiding him to sit down and steadying him. "Did he hurt you?!" He demanded, eyes scanning Kenma's body. 

 

"I-I don't think so," Kenma responded. Kuroo's gaze stopped at Kenma's ear.

 

"You're bleeding. He hit you, didn't he?" Kenma winced as his best friend's fingers touched the wound.

 

"T-The table," he said, looking at the ground. Kuroo cursed violently.

 

"I should have snapped his neck."

 

"Kuroo-"

 

"The nerve on him to _touch_ you-"

 

"Kuroo." Kenma was blinking up at him, trying to focus despite the dizziness. 

 

"Yeah," Kuroo said quietly.

 

"I'm okay, really."

 

"You...say that, but..."

 

"I'll be fine, Kuroo. _It's okay_." Kuroo's face softened, and his hand gently covered the cut, supporting Kenma's head. 

 

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Kenma frowned at him. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have left you by yourself when there's no one around, I should have been there-"

 

"Stop." Kenma's voice was firm, and he gripped Kuroo's arm with certainty. "This isn't your fault. Stop." Kuroo accepted his words but his eyes were fierce still.

 

"I...have magic. Like you." Kenma gave him a small nod. Kuroo carefully took one of the other boy's hands, delicate and small, in his own and studied it as if it held all the answers he needed. He closed his eyes.

 

"I'll...protect you from now on. I promise." Kenma's face heated and he blinked in shock.

 

"Kuroo...you don't-"

 

"I'll keep you safe. Like always. I won't let you get hurt again."

 

"Kuroo..."

 

"Kenma. Let me." Seeing he wouldn't be able to dissuade him, Kenma tightened his grip on his best friend and smiled sadly.

 

"Okay. But..." The look of confusion turned his way crumbled quickly. " _I protect you too."_  


 

They were the first of their kind. In their future, a bigger family was waiting. Their darkness, which flowed without stopping, was deadly and unyielding. They would be known as formidable shadows, impossible to predict and harder to resist. Able to travel through the shade and overcome the constant light, they would be irrevocable.


	3. Rain and All It Brings

Thunder crashed and lightning sliced the sky.

 

Akaashi, who was holding his bag above his head in an attempt to ward off the water, squinted up at the sky. He didn't mind storms, but he was less inclined to tolerate them when he had important papers in his bag and it was pouring.

 

"AKAASHI!" Akaashi jumped and then stopped in his tracks, features assembling into neutral annoyance. He sighed and waited for his companion to catch up.

 

Bokuto, a clumsy boy with wild salt and pepper hair, came running up behind him, out of breath. "Why didn't you wait for me?"

 

"You're slow."

 

"What?!" Bokuto looked at him in astonishment, clearly offended, and blew out a long breath. After a few minutes of walking silently next to his friend, Bokuto fumbled in his pocket.

 

"Wait, where's my..."

 

"Key?" Akaashi held up a metallic object with a long suffering sigh. _Akaashi sighed a lot._  


"Akaashi! You're the best!" Bokuto snatched the key and jumped up and down.

 

"Stop losing that," Akaashi muttered. "I am not wading through a river again."

 

"That was one time!"

 

"One time too many." Bokuto pouted as the other boy shifted his bag in his hands. "When's this rain going to stop?" Bokuto stopped for a moment and peered up at the sky, yellow eyes shining in the rain.

 

"I like it, though. Don't you?" He got a frown in return.

 

"No, not really."

 

"Akaashi," Bokuto complained.

 

"What."

 

"Stop being so negative."

 

"I'm not..."

 

"Yes you are." They'd reached the street where their paths home separated.

 

"Yeah, sure. See you tomorrow." Bokuto gave him a cheerful wave before sprinting off to his house. Akaashi shook his head and started home. _Idiot._  


It was a few hours later that Akaashi's phone began ringing. He ignored it in favor of finishing his school work, but when it rang a third time he groaned and picked up.

 

"Bokuto...whatever it is, can you-"

 

"Akaashi?" Bokuto's voice was very quiet, shaking even. Given how loud he was on a daily basis, rain or shine, morning or night, it was incredibly concerning.

 

"Yeah?" Akaashi set his pencil down, feeling worry rise despite himself.

 

"I...I need you to come over. Please." 

 

"Why? What's going on-"

 

"Hurry." The click at the other end signaled the end of the call, and Akaashi, now beyond concerned at the strange behavior, threw on a jacket and bolted out of the house. The storm had stopped.

 

When he reached Bokuto's house, he saw his friend standing outside, head down. Akaashi slowed his pace, walking quickly. He felt the disturbance in the air, the distant feeling of electricity, before he saw it. 

 

Barely a yard away, lightning slammed into the ground. Akaashi flinched back, ears ringing, and tipped his head back. The sky was cloudy, but no other signs of a storm...He put a hand to his head, the after effects of the lightning making his temple ache. 

 

"...Akaashi?" He looked up to find Bokuto standing in front of him, face distraught as he'd never seen it. "Are...are you okay?" Bokuto's voice cracked, horribly, and Akaashi stared at him in surprise.

 

"I'm fine," he said, his own voice sounding far underwater. "Did you...I mean, what's going on? Is something wrong?" Bokuto suddenly lunged forward and gripped him in a hug, making him grunt in confusion.

 

"Akaashi," Bokuto said, the name sounding desperate, "I'm so sorry, I couldn't make it stop, I...I understand it now, I understand everything-"

 

"What are you talking about?" Akaashi raised an eyebrow at him, wondering if Bokuto had finally lost it.

 

"I..." Bokuto drew back, eyes red rimmed. "It was all me."

 

"What was?"

 

"The storm...it was _me_." Akaashi's eyes widened as he took in his friend. There was something different about him...the wind seemed to stir, seemed to make way for Bokuto, and he looked taller, stronger...

 

_"It was me, Akaashi."_

Bokuto, through exploration and many experiments to the disapproval of Akaashi, found himself to be a magician of storms. His movements could make thunder echo, make the wind pounce on the earth, his voice could call down lightning and rain. It was a burden he could bear alone, but...

 

Akaashi stood beside him, refusing to bow to the unknown, and soon he was a storm too.

 


	4. Feathers of Ash

And then came the flame wielders.

 

The eldest were Daichi and Suga. Two boys close to graduating high school, but also harboring mature, pure flames. They were lucky: most magicians with wilder powers such as theirs spent years searching for their match. But Daichi and Suga lived in the same neighborhood. They became friends easily. They were in each others worlds, changing, growing, and before either of them saw it coming the dam broke.

 

Daichi was late to class, and unexcused, which was not a normal behavior for him. Suga went looking for his friend after the lunch bell, only to find he had shut himself in an equipment closet. He had been sitting cross legged on the cement floor, elbows on his knees, dark eyes fixed on a wall. Suga, alarmed, had sat down across from him only to realize that Daichi was shaking and coated in sweat. When Daichi didn't respond to his first questions, Suga attempted to coax his friend into speaking. To his surprise, the other boy met his eyes with strength and asked, "You feel it too, don't you?" (Suga did. The longer he sat close to Daichi, the hotter his blood ran and the tighter his skin felt. There was something, something fierce and powerful that demanded to be freed. He just didn't understand what it was.) Looking worried as always, Suga reached across to give his friend's arm a reassuring squeeze. 

 

Before either of them could react, could see what they had released, the room was filled with fire that burned away nothing. Terrified, they fled the school and didn't return. 

 

The closet was left undamaged and smoking, and the boys were changed forever. But they supported each other through discovering what they had become, and before they knew it, they were just two students again.

 

Then came Asahi, the most cowardly of them all (according to Daichi), and Nishinoya, the guardian of their flames.

 

Asahi, though he spent a majority of life being mistaken for a thug or a high school dropout because of his rough appearance, was in reality quite unsure of himself. He hadn't yet found his purpose, or something that he felt could make him truly happy. That is, until he became the ace of the school's volleyball team, essential to their victory. The libero of their team, the short but energetic Nishinoya, was the most enthusiastic in Asahi's abilities and believed in him entirely. Sometimes Asahi felt he didn't deserve it, but...playing with Nishinoya and the others made him feel meaningful. Made him feel like he had a place he was meant to be.

 

After a game with an opponent left Asahi feeling downtrodden, his friend tried to cheer him up, but...Asahi didn't think he could handle any more failure. He told Nishinoya he was going to leave the team. In his anger, Nishinoya's magic manifested, getting the better of him and incinerating the plant life around them. It nearly got to Asahi. His own flame shielded him, making itself known without his permission. (It gave Nishinoya a burn injury, when his own flame bounced back, but it didn't stop him from asking after his friend again and again, apologizing almost more than Asahi himself. Which was saying something.) After that day, they worked on controlling their magic together, and the anger between them left slowly, as Asahi returned to playing and doing what he loved, with Nishinoya by his side. The powerhouse and the guardian made a steady, versatile fire; no wind or water could put them out.

 

Then, there were the younger among them. Two were Tsukishima and Yamaguchi. They were practically inseparable, although you'd never catch anyone saying it. They'd met a long time ago, in elementary school. In those days, Yamaguchi was small and susceptible to the bullies who liked to take advantage of those who couldn't fight. Those sort of kids only wanted to feel better about themselves, of course, and Yamaguchi knew that, but it didn't stop them from taking his things and beating him into corners where the teachers couldn't see. On one such occasion, Tsukishima was stalking past in his usual threatening manner, but unlike the others who scurried past or averted their eyes, he stopped and stared directly at the back of the bully's head. Yamaguchi, in awe, watched as the pale boy laughed at their efforts to scare him and called them lame, his eyes sharp and predatory. For the first time in months, Yamaguchi found himself smiling, and he was at once fascinated. Tsukishima had of course given him a dismissive glance and walked away, but Yamaguchi never forgot, and whenever he had the chance to speak to his "hero", he would. Or rather, he would talk _at_ him, but it was worth it. Tsukishima began to let him in, little by little, and suddenly both of them knew each other more than they'd meant to. Tsukishima treated most everyone with indifference; in fact, he was rude more than not. He seemed like nothing weighed him down, like nothing touched him. That was what had first drew Yamaguchi in; he knew better now. He knew things he couldn't see rested on his friend's shoulders, so he stayed close, stayed someone Tsukki could count on. He was forever grateful he did, when their magic manifested. (When Tsukishima needed him most.) Tsukki's brother, someone who'd always been dependable and strong, lied to his younger sibling to save face; Tsukishima didn't take it well. Yamaguchi found him a block from home, breathing in and out and straining to rein in the fire surrounding him. The fire was hissing, dry and without proper fuel, and it bowed to avoid Yamaguchi as he nervously put a hand on Tsukishima's shoulder. Tsukki's head snapped up, those piercing eyes swimming with flames, and when they saw him, the blaze blinked out as if it had fled. Smoke blew over them, making Yamaguchi cough. 

 

Unfortunately, that made new fire flare up from the ground, and it took several tries before it went away for good. After a long bout of staring at each other dumbfounded, neither of them could find an explanation for what had happened. They urgently left the circle of ash, double checking for any witnesses. With nothing left to say, they both stood at the end of the street, looking back into the drifting smoke.

 

Together, as they always were now, they faced each other's power without flinching.

 

The last to join them were Kageyama, the King, and Hinata, the weapon.

 

Kageyama's magic came to him on a cold autumn night. He was running home, away from the school...

 

Away from the ominous thud of a ball hitting an empty court.

 

His team had defied him; his team had betrayed him; his team had...

 

His team had _left_ him. 

 

The shock was numbing; the wind was nipping at his face but he didn't feel it. How could they abandon him? How could they give up, how could they not believe in him? The air parting for him, the slight strain in his lungs, did nothing to take him out of the daze.

 

He tripped, clumsy in his disbelief, and his knees scraped the pavement as he fell. He tried to catch his breath, eyes fixed on his shaking hands, and when he closed his eyes and grit his teeth, he felt something inside him snap. He opened his eyes to fire consuming everything, snaking around him and gobbling up his oxygen, and as soon as he got his limbs to obey, he ran. His vision sparked, but he kept going, kept getting farther away from the isolation, the fear, the anger. The flames inside him roared a hole through his chest and kept spreading, until it was in his eyes and his every breath.

 

The next autumn, he met Hinata.

 

A short, but impossibly loud boy. The moment he hopped in front of Kageyama and demanded a match...

 

Kageyama could feel his fire scream and claw at him, pointing and showing him the truth. He didn't see Hinata's magic for a while, not until he lost his temper and suddenly both of them were wreathed in flames. Hinata was demanding, a living inferno with his orange hair, impossible to ignore. But there was a hunger in his eyes, always, when they settled on Kageyama, and he could never resist rising to it. Both of them were incredibly powerful on their own, they soon found.

 

They could become something more.

 

He and Hinata, with crowns of flame, could climb ever higher if only they helped each other get there.

 

And they would.

 

On a calm fall day, the magicians with fire in their veins all crossed each other's paths. The connection was found soon; they were meant to be here. Joined by Tanaka, (the wildest of them all), and Kiyoko and Yachi (two girls with fierce flames who helped support them on their journey), they walked forth into the world united at last. They carried the fire of brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers. The fire of the hurt, of the healed, of the lonely and the loved. A murder of crows, with great wings of ash...ready to fly into the endless sky.

 

 


	5. The End.

In the end, when the lines that made up the world would become a weapon, the shadows, the earth, the heavens, and the flame would meet. They are each different; they all have suffered and survived. When the sky screams and the days turn black...

They will answer the call and turn the malevolent away.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I didn't expect anyone to like this really but...I've gotten a lot of requests to make this a full-fledged story? thank you guys for supporting it, ily <3 A full fic is in the works :)


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